


The Mercenary’s Daughter

by Kitsilver



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Fluff, Friendship, Romance, Slow Burn, War, and fight a war together, really slow burn, when a princess and a mercenary's daughter fall in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-02-23 08:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23275054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsilver/pseuds/Kitsilver
Summary: A world without those who slither in the dark, but where danger still awaits. A world where Edelgard von Hresvelg, imperial princess to the Adrestian Empire and 9th in line to the throne, meets the daughter of a mercenary. And their fates are entwined forever.Chapter 4: Edelgard and the Black Eagles are sent on a journey, and Edelgard gets to know Byleth a little better.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 35
Kudos: 237





	1. Chapter 1

Edelgard von Hresvelg, daughter of Ionius IX, 9th in the line to the throne of the Adrestian Empire, did not like what she did not understand. 

“I do not understand, Father,” she said, idly running her fingers along the handle of the axe she kept strapped to her belt. The throne room was empty aside from herself and her father on the throne, except for the soldiers who lined the walls and stood ready to guard the throne. “Why does it matter who my teacher will be?”

He arched one fair brow at her. “Shouldn’t I care about my daughter’s education?”

She looked back at him, arched a brow in turn. “Father.” She did not have to say it, for he already knew. She had been taught by the best instructors that money and prestige could buy since she was old enough to wield a sword. She could already hold her own against the elite guard who defended her father. She was not yet eighteen, but she was no child, and already a better fighter than all but a handful of soldiers in her father’s army. What need did she have for yet another tutor?

Her father started to laugh, at her expense she was sure, but his laugh was broken by a weak, rasping cough.

“Father…” Edelgard said with concern. She patted him on the back. “Are you sure you want to be here? I’m sure this can wait.”

He waved her off, coughing a bit more. “Nonsense. I’m fine. Just…” he took a deep breath, “a bit of dust is all.”

“Why are you so interested in this man?” Edelgard said. “This mercenary, Jeralt.” Her father had described the man’s prowess in battle and fighting skill, but she did not see how he was any different than other soldiers she had known.

“I knew him once, long ago. He was an admirable fighter then and a decent man. I knew he would be a valuable officer and offered him a position in the imperial army.” Her father shook his head, a somewhat disbelieving smile on his face. “He refused. Said that he did not want to be tied down to any one place.”

“Typical as far as mercenaries go,” Edelgard said. “I still don’t understand why you are so interested in him.”

“He has only become a better fighter since, and a better leader. He leads a well-known mercenary band and someone I would like to have in my service.” He frowned. “Especially with the situation in Faerghus, and with that amongst our own nobles.”

Edelgard was careful to lower her voice, mindful of listening ears. “You think it will lead to war, Father? Or rebellion?”

Her father chose his words carefully, not taking his eyes from the closed double doors of the throne room. “There are always those waiting for a sign of weakness before they strike, daughter. Rumors of an assassination plot in Faerghus. Unrest amongst our nobles.” His mouth tightened. “One must keep one’s enemies close, and a watchful eye on the rest. If anything were to happen to their king, I would not be surprised if blame were to fall on our shoulders.”

“Who would benefit from seeing us go to war with Faerghus?” Edelgard said, exasperation in her tone. “Why would anyone think we would want their king dead?”

“Because we are the Empire. And there are those who say we plot to reunite Fódlan under our rule.” He shrugged. “Or that we should.”

Edelgard scoffed. “They don’t know you very well then. Or my brother.” Her father and brother would not plan such a thing. They had no desire to conquer a land they had not ruled in hundreds of years.

Her father gave a noncommittal hum. “We shall see, my daughter. Either way, it would benefit us to have such a man in our army. And one more thing.” When she looked at him, a quizzical brow raised, he smiled again. “It is his daughter who I’m interested in having as your instructor, not him.”

“Oh?” Edelgard said, intrigued. “Why, who is she?”

“Have you heard of the Ashen Demon?” 

Edelgard’s brow furrowed, but before she could answer, the gilded doors of the throne room swung open and the booming voice of the herald announced their visitors.

“Jeralt Eisner, leader of the mercenary band Jeralt’s Mercenaries. And his daughter.”

It was a dissimilar pair that made their way through the tall gilded doors and walked the long steps to the throne. The man, Jeralt, was tall and broad, stocky and muscled, fair of hair. He looked like could wield the broadsword on his back for hours without tiring, with strength that could split a wooden shield in two. His daughter in contrast was slim, shorter than he by a few hands, lean and lithe. Who moved with the easy grace of one who spent many hours honing her movements. Much like a dancer, but with a sword. Her hair was long and dark. Her face was, Edelgard had to admit, striking. A mix of features delicate and strong. And her eyes…deep and dark and blue. It was like falling into the ocean. She met Edelgard’s gaze, and instead of looking away as Edelgard expected and decorum demanded, she kept her eyes fixed on Edelgard’s face. Edelgard scoffed at the impertinence, raising her chin ever so slightly, ignoring the unfamiliar flutter of her heart.

Who was she to stare so boldly?

The man bowed at the foot of the stairs leading to the throne. His daughter bowed as well, and when she rose, her eyes caught yet again on Edelgard’s face as if she did not care to look anywhere else. Edelgard narrowed her eyes, a challenge, and she could swear the other woman fought back a smile.

“Your Majesty,” Jeralt said, nodding once to her father. “Your Highness,” he said, nodding at her. He gestured to the woman beside him. “May I introduce my daughter, Byleth.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes: Hi everyone, I hope you like this beginning. I meant it to be a snippet only, a look at a world where Edelgard was allowed to simply be a princess who was not in line to the throne, unburdened by a second Crest and a terrible destiny. But then I thought, what kind of person would Edelgard be, then? If the defining event of her life never happened and her family still lived? What would Byleth mean to her then? What would her destiny be? That is the purpose of this story. 
> 
> Hope you’ll be along for the ride.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this. I hope you enjoy it too. =]

“May I introduce my daughter, Byleth.”

Byleth nodded once to Edelgard and her father, a demure inclination of her head. But while Edelgard could see polite respect when the woman looked at her father, she could swear she saw something else when the woman looked at her. A crinkling of her eyes, a twitch at the corner of her lips, that said she was amused by something when she met and held Edelgard’s gaze.

How infuriating.

Edelgard was many things, but _amusing_ was not one of them. She did not realize she was frowning until her father spoke. 

“Greetings to you, Jeralt, and to your daughter, Byleth. I thank you for responding to my summons.”

“It is not often that we are summoned by emperors,” Jeralt replied. “We also just finished a job in the Kingdom so it was good timing.”

“Ah, the Kingdom,” her father said. “What kind of job was that?”

Jeralt shrugged. “Just another job, Your Majesty. Putting down bandits on the border.”

“On the border of Faerghus and Adrestia?” her father said carefully. “Or Faerghus and Leicester?”

“Adrestia,” Jeralt said plainly. Edelgard could read nothing on his face. The expression on Byleth’s face was also one of careful neutrality. It seemed that they were reluctant to speak of their work when it involved another employer; that could be useful in a mercenary.

“I know that neutrality is important to you, Jeralt.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

But I must know,” her father continued, steel in his voice, “that once a contract is signed, your loyalty is assured.”

Jeralt clapped a fist to his chest. “You have my word, Your Majesty. I cannot share information from another employer, but I and my men will serve you with all the skills we possess for as long as the contract stands.” A smile returned to his face, something small, with just the hint of amusement. It looked suspiciously like the expression on his daughter’s face a few moments ago. 

“But I assume, Your Majesty,” Jeralt said, “that you have read the conditions for any contract that I take?”

“I have.” Her father tapped his finger on the armrest of the throne as he recited the list from memory. “Wages, room and board - specifically not in a stable. The members of your company will take command directly from you alone, or from your second in command. And this last condition.” Her father’s gaze grew more intense. “You and your men will not be ordered to kill unarmed civilians, or enemies who give up their weapons and surrender. Or you will refuse such an order. That is an interesting condition for a mercenary.”

“It may be, Your Majesty,” Jeralt replied. His tone, while respectful, brooked no argument. Even from an emperor. “But I insist on it. We are good fighters and good one. We will fight for you. But we will not kill defenseless people for you.”

Her father stared at the mercenary for a long moment, just studying him. Edelgard did the same. His terms seemed reasonable, but they shed some light on what the man valued and what he would be willing to do. She understood leaders sometimes had to make difficult decisions, had to send their soldiers off to die, if it would serve a greater good. She could understand not wanting to kill unarmed civilians, but what if the order were to send him and his men into great danger with little chance of survival. Would he follow it?

She wasn’t sure. This Jeralt seemed like an honest man, and had a reputation as a fine warrior, but was it worth having him in their employ if he could not be trusted to follow such an order? She looked to her father and waited for his answer.

After a long moment, her father nodded. “I agree to your conditions. Do you agree to all of mine?”

Jeralt nodded. “All except one, your Majesty.”

“Except one?” Her father clearly was not expecting to negotiate farther.

“Yes. I agree that I and my company will be yours to command for a set amount of time. But as for your second request, that Byleth teach your daughter how to fight. I cannot make that decision for her.”

“And why not?”

“It is outside the demands of a normal contract. And she is old enough to make her own decisions.”

“Then what say you,” her father said, addressing Byleth for the first time. “Will you teach her or not?”

Byleth thought for a moment before replying. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, how could I agree to train someone I had never met? Without knowing her abilities or level of training?”

Edelgard bristled. Was she questioning her abilities? She was the daughter of an emperor and trained by their finest warriors. How dare she insinuate that she was not good enough to be trained by a simple mercenary. 

Her father voiced the same question and Byleth shook her head. “No, Your Majesty. I am not questioning your daughter’s abilities, simply that I do not know them. And I cannot agree to teach someone I do not know.”

“If I may speak, Father,” Edelgard cut in, staring at Byleth. “But I would say the same of you. I know nothing of you, and frankly, wonder what it is that you could teach me. I have been instructed by the finest soldiers of the Empire. Are you telling me that you are better than they?”

Byleth flashed that _smile_ again, that tiny quirk of her lips and the flash of amusement in her eyes, before she schooled her features into something neutral. Edelgard had not known that she could be so easily irked by a smile.

“With all due respect, Highness, I merely said that I do not know you, or your level of training, and I could not answer without knowing those things. As for my own skill,” her smile grew wider as she held Edelgard’s gaze, “I am confident in my abilities.”

“I asked her to teach you,” her father said, “because I know of her reputation. They call you the Ashen Demon, do they not?”

Byleth shrugged. “I am not responsible for the name. I have fought beside my father since I was young. I have commanded men. I am very good at what I do. But I do not claim to be anything more than that.”

“I see.” Her father looked at Byleth intently. “What would make you agree to teach her?”

Edelgard could not stand to have decisions made for her without her input. “Let us have a match, Father,” she said, staring at Byleth. “Here and now. I could see for myself what skills she possesses and she can judge my ‘level of ability’ for herself.”

Byleth did not even bother to hide her smile now when she looked at Edelgard. Edelgard couldn’t understand why, but it frustrated her to feel like this woman wasn’t taking her seriously. She knew her fighting ability, knew that she did not have prove herself to anyone, but there was something about this woman that made her want to.

“I agree to a match,” her father said. “Do you accept Byleth?”

“I do. Weapons?”

“Training weapons,” Edelgard replied, coming down from the dais where she had stood next to her father and walking toward Byleth and Jeralt below. “Whatever you choose.”

“Sword.”

Edelgard stopped in front of Byleth. Now that they were on the same level, Edelgard could see that Byleth had a few inches over her, forcing her to look up to meet the taller woman’s gaze.

Height had never impressed her. 

“Axe and shield for me. Shall I provide you with the armor that we use for training?” A hard cap and padded armor were standard during her sparring matches. Blunt as the weapons were, as controlled as she and her training partners tried to be, bruising and broken bones did happen. The armor was meant to mitigate those injuries. She and Byleth were unknown to each other, increasing the likelihood of injury during a sparring match. She expected Byleth to agree.

But Byleth shook her head. “No, I will not need it.”

Oh, the arrogance of this woman.

“Then neither do I,” Edelgard said through gritted teeth. She spun on her heel and walked to the other side of the throne room. “Weapons,” she called out, and a guard ran toward the room where training weapons were kept. Another guard stepped forward and asked Byleth for weapons. Edelgard removed the cape from her shoulder and her formal coat, leaving her in leggings and a simple coat. Byleth handed the guard her sword, pulled a dagger from her boot, and pulled a small blade from inside her sleeve. Edelgard must have had a curious expression on her face because Byleth shrugged at her, before removing her own coat and placing it aside.

The long, lean lines of her body were easier to see without the coat. Her broad shoulders filled out the long-sleeved shirt, highlighting a slim waist and muscular bottom in tight fighting pants. Edelgard knew that she was staring, but when Byleth turned around, showing off well-muscled forearms and a generous bosom peeking through the V cut in her shirt, Edelgard had to look away as warmth bloomed on her cheeks.

Now was decidedly _not_ the time to notice how attractive she was. 

She took a few calming breaths, felt the warmth recede from her cheeks, and turned back to face Byleth – only to find her smiling and looking at Edelgard as if she knew what thoughts had coursed through her mind moments before.

Edelgard narrowed her eyes, grumbling beneath her breath, but was interrupted by Hubert who arrived with her practice axe and shield. 

“Are you sure this is wise, Your Highness?” Hubert asked, face set in its usual grim line. But his eyes were concerned. He was her closest friend and confidante and she knew to pay attention when he was worried.

“The sparring match?”

“The lack of protection,” he said carefully. “You do not know her. You cannot trust her. You should wear armor for this match.”

“I know I cannot trust her, Hubert,” she said, putting her left arm through the straps of her shield and taking the axe with the other. “But I can handle myself. I do not want to wear armor if she will not. Besides,” she said, hefting her weapons, “I can move faster this way.”

Hubert inclined his head, but he was not pleased. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

He stepped aside and Edelgard stepped forward. Byleth was already waiting for her in the center of the throne room, sword at her side.

“Shall we begin?” Edelgard asked.

“Whenever you are ready, Highness.”

They circled each other, Edelgard keeping her shield high and axe low. Byleth kept the sword in front of her. Edelgard struck first, a blow meant not to overwhelm but to probe, which Byleth deflected easily and returned with one of her own. They traded blows like that at first, falling into an easy rhythm of strike and parry, strike and parry, as they looked for openings. Their intensity increased gradually, with strikes coming faster, blows coming harder. And still, not one blow landed on either of them. Byleth had the advantage of speed, but Edelgard had a defensive advantage with her shield.

Edelgard lost track of how long they sparred with each other, but her shield was starting to weigh on her and her breath was coming faster now. Byleth looked much the same as she had when they started.

“Well?” Edelgard asked, trying to steady her breath so she was not panting. “Have you seen enough?”

“That depends,” Byleth said. “Is that all you have?”

With a frustrated growl, Edelgard attacked faster and more furiously than before, the thud and crack of their weapons ringing throughout the throne room. But even then, she could not land a single blow. Byleth matched her every movement with the same speed and intensity, never more or less, and Edelgard had the sinking feeling that Byleth was doing only enough to keep the match going and wasn’t actually trying to win at all. Which meant that Byleth could finish the match at any time, and was simply choosing not to.

She took that feeling and shoved it deep, deep down, gritting her teeth and throwing herself at Byleth once more. But her shield was becoming harder to lift and her strikes beginning to veer off mark.

One strike went wild, missing so widely that Byleth barely had to step aside to dodge it. Edelgard knew that she was left open, her side exposed, and she waited for Byleth strike the blow that would end the match. But Byleth only stood there watching her, sword at her side. Without questioning why, Edelgard struck one more time. Byleth’s parry was weak, inexplicably so, and her sword went flying across the throne room floor. Edelgard, finally victorious, held her axe toward the now disarmed mercenary.

“Got you,” she said, eyes fixed on Byleth. She was panting, and her axe shook slightly, but she had won. Byleth said nothing. “Do you yield?”

“No.” Byleth replied. “Do you?”

“You have been disarmed,” Edelgard said, incredulous. “This match is over.”

“Neither of us has landed a blow. Finish it,” she said, hands empty at her side.

“No,” Edelgard said stubbornly. She was not one to strike an unarmed opponent either.

“Then I will,” Byleth said.

And she did.

With one motion Byleth stepped forward, striking Edelgard’s wrist with the flat of her arm. Edelgard cried out, dropping the axe. Byleth took her arm, holding it close to her body as she spun and kicked both of Edelgard’s legs out from underneath her. Edelgard gasped, bracing herself for a hard fall, only to have her fall broken at the last moment.

Edelgard found herself on her back, breathing hard, staring at the mercenary who had her pinned to the ground. Byleth leaned over her, blue eyes fixed on hers, as she pressed a knee to her abdomen and held both of her arms down. Heart pounding in her throat, Edelgard pushed against Byleth with all her strength – and could not budge.

Oh.

Edelgard gulped, unable to take her eyes off of Byleth. The woman smiled, and something about the way she looked at her made Edelgard’s heart beat even faster. But not with fear. She didn’t know what this was, this sudden tightness in her chest, but it wasn’t fear.

“I’ve got you,” Byleth murmured, her voice low, eyes so blue and somehow soft.

And Edelgard could only stare, just for a moment.

But the moment was broken by the sound of boots pounding toward them, soldiers she assumed, rushing to her rescue. She looked to them and waved them off.

“I’m fine,” she said. They stopped in their tracks, uneasy, but obedient. Hubert was nearby too, anger on his face, hands already preparing a spell. She shook her head at him, holding his gaze until he lowered his hands.

Then she turned back to Byleth, brow raised. “Can I get up now?”

“That depends,” Byleth said, with a smile that felt like a tease. “Do you yield?”

Edelgard rolled her eyes. “Yes,” she said begrudgingly. But she was smiling too when Byleth stood and helped her up. It seemed to her that Byleth held her hand just a bit longer than necessary before letting go and taking a respectful step back.

Edelgard felt like she could breathe a little more easily after that.

She took a deep, steadying breath then turned and faced her father. “I can personally vouch for her abilities, Father. If she were willing, I would like her to teach me what she knows.”

“And what say you, Byleth?” Her father asked.

“I agree,” Byleth said. When Edelgard looked back at her, there was only respect on her face, but there was something in her eyes – something that flashed briefly when she looked at Edelgard. “I will be your teacher, Edelgard.”

Edelgard nodded, feeling pleasure blooming in her chest. “I look forward to it, Byleth.”

Their gazes met and held again, blue eyes resting on hers. And Edelgard realized that she liked the sound of her name on Byleth’s lips, and the feel of Byleth’s name on hers. 


	3. Chapter 3

It was a beautiful day to train. The sun was shining, the sky was blue. Edelgard took a deep breath of the cool spring air.

She picked out a training sword from the rack, felt the weight of it in her hand, and just as it had so often in the past few days, her mind wandered back to the sparring match with Byleth.

She had never fought with someone like that before. Who moved so fluidly, who could counter everything she threw at her. And the way she had disarmed in the end – Edelgard still found herself smiling at that memory for reasons she could not say. Maybe because she had been so surprised at being beaten so soundly, the first time in a long while. Maybe it was the way she had finished the match, holding Edelgard down in a way that should have made her furious. But when Byleth had smiled at her, looked at her with those blue eyes, and said “I’ve got you,” something in Edelgard’s stomach fluttered. She’d never felt that way before. 

Her musing was interrupted by a familiar, and often times irritating voice. 

“I see that your defeat at the hands of the mercenary has not quashed your desire to train, Edelgard.” 

Edelgard barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes at Ferdinand as he ambled toward her, his eyes sparkling with mirth, his walk jaunty. 

“Hello to you too, Ferdinand,” Edelgard replied archly. She and Ferdinand had known each from a young age since his father was prime minister and a regular fixture at the capital. Ferdinand had often come to visit as a child and five years ago had come to live in the palace, studying and training with Edelgard when he was not being taught by his father on how to fill the position that he would inherit one day. 

He was proud and far too occupied with his noble status, and sometimes came off as rather ridiculous. But he was diligent with his training, intelligent and skilled, showing promise as a warrior and a future prime minister of the Empire. She would even call him a friend, if he was not forever setting himself up as her rival.

“I may have been defeated by the mercenary,” Edelgard continued. “But I can still beat you. Even with a sword.” 

Ferdinand grinned, picking a wooden sword from the training rack and pointing it at her. “Challenge accepted!” 

They had sparred many times. This time was no different. 

Ferdinand ended the match lying on his back, sword out of reach, and Edelgard pointing her weapon at him. “Do you yield?” she said.

Ferdinand harrumphed, but nodded. Grinning, she reached down and helped him up. From outside the training ring, applause.

“Woo good job Edelgard!” Caspar yelled. “Did you learn that from your new mercenary teacher?”

Edelgard shook her head, still grinning. “No, not yet. I am looking forward to learning from her though.”

“Oh yea,” Caspar said. “I wish I could have been there to see it. The mighty Edelgard beaten at last!”

“Oh you’re so looking forward to seeing someone beat me then?” Edelgard replied. She hefted her training weapon. “Want to try me?”

Caspar laughed. “Anytime! You know I’m always ready to train.”

That was something she had always liked about Caspar. He always worked hard and gave everything he had to his training. That was good for him, because as a second son he would not inherit the title after his father. Edelgard knew of his elder brother, the heir to Count Bergliez, who had a reputation as a lazy and greedy man. Privately she thought that Caspar would make a better heir to both title and position, but she knew that was not to be. Caspar would be a soldier, and a fine one at that, but he would have to make his own fortune.

Ferdinand groaned, hand to his head. “You might want to take a break Caspar. Our princess is in a fighting mood today.”

“What has got you in a mood for fighting, Edelgard?” Petra said as she joined them in the training ring.

Edelgard raised a hand. “Oh hello, Petra. How are you today?”

Petra was still relatively new to the palace and a few years younger than she. The Brigid princess had come to the capital about a year ago and lived in the palace for about half that time. Edelgard knew that she had been sent from her island home as a way to guarantee their allegiance, but Petra seemed to take her situation in stride. A foreigner she might be, but one who never stopped working, never stopped studying and trying to learn more about this strange land she found herself in. Edelgard had to admire that. She was also wickedly fast with a sword and an excellent training partner. 

“I am well, thank you for your asking. Now what was Caspar was speaking of?” Petra asked.

“You _haven’t_ heard about the mercenary who will be teaching Edelgard?” Ferdinand said with a dramatic gasp.

Petra shook her head. “I have no hearing of this. They must be very skilled if they will be your teacher.”

“She is,” Edelgard replied, grinning. “And you’ll meet her soon, I’m sure.”

“I can’t wait to meet her!” Caspar said. “Hey Edelgard, think she’d train me too?”

Edelgard laughed. “Why not? As long as she is willing. And as long as _I_ get the most time with her.”

“Aww! No fair!”

On and on it went for the rest of the morning, the four of them training and talking and laughing. It was a good day, a really good day, to train.

\--

After morning training ended, Edelgard said goodbye to her companions. She bathed and ate her midday meal, then was on her way to join her father in the throne room when she saw Hubert, his expression darker than usual.

“What has you in such a foul mood today, Hubert?” she asked, not bothering with pleasantries. She and Hubert had known each other for far too long, for almost as long she could remember, to bother with such things anymore.

“It is that damn Linhardt,” Hubert said, scowling. “He was once again asleep at his desk today.”

Edelgard winced. “Again? Your professor threatened to quit if he kept doing that.”

“Indeed. It would not bother me so much if he were actually a lackwit. Then I could simply dismiss him as a lost cause.” Hubert continued on in his usual grim voice. “But no. He has to be brilliant, one of the best young minds in the empire, and he chooses to waste his time on nappingand trivialities.” Disdain dripped from his voice. Hubert had little tolerance for most people, and none at all for people who he perceived as serving no purpose. 

“He got every question right again, didn’t he?” Edelgard guessed.

“Every single one,” Hubert glowered. “After the professor slammed a book on his desk to wake him, of course.”

Edelgard fought back a smile. “I see,” she said. She didn’t know what to make of Linhardt, but it was amusing to see them together. They were such a study in contrasts. Both were intelligent, but where Hubert was driven and dedicated, Linhardt was not. Edelgard wondered if he would ever find a cause worthy of pursuing, or if he would indeed spend his life on trivialities. He never showed an interest in following his father’s footsteps as Minister of the Interior, always seeming to disappear or fall asleep during any lesson about domestic affairs, finance, or the judiciary. Which was a shame of course, because Linhardt was slated to inherit that position after his father. 

“And where are you headed, Lady Edelgard?” Hubert asked.

“To join my father in the throne room. He is meeting with emissaries today as well as holding court. Several lords have disputes to settle.”

Hubert inclined his head. “A worthy use of your time, Your Highness.”

It was. Edelgard valued the time she spent with her father, the opportunity to learn as much as she could about the empire, its relations with other nations as well the internal conflicts and alliances that could undermine or strengthen the state. When she first began attending these meetings a few years ago, she had been expected to do nothing but watch and learn, just a curious child who wanted to know what her father did all day. As she grew older she began to discuss what she had seen, and ask questions that helped her better understand her world, and her knowledge continued to grow. Lately she had been a regular fixture at her father’s side during diplomatic meetings, and it gratified her to feel that her father actually valued her input at times. 

Edelgard wanted to serve, on the battlefield or close to the throne. She knew that as princess, the most that was expected of her was that she marry well to strengthen her family’s alliances and to honor her family. It was not a bad life, and most of her older sisters had already married and lived happily with their spouses and their children. But Edelgard could not imagine living such a life. Not just because the idea of a husband inevitably made her wince, but because she couldn’t imagine being confined to the sphere of home and family. She needed more, needed a greater purpose to dedicate herself to, and she was determined to increase her skills both as a warrior and a diplomat in order to do so.

When she arrived at the throne room, her father was seated and in discussion with an emissary from Faerghus, based on the blue livery he wore. A line stretched behind him, emissaries and lords, as well as common folk who had been elected to represent their towns. Edelgard took her regular place by her father’s side and listened.

Faerghus was unsettled. Its king was under threat of assassination, from sources unknown, and his son and heir was potentially mad, a so-called “boar prince” with perhaps violent tendencies. The emissary was here to reassure the empire of its friendship, and ask for assurances of support if something happened to destabilize the throne.

The emissary from the Leicester Alliance was next, speaking of trade and friendship. The league of noble families was interested in maintaining its neutrality, as always. Their leader, Duke Oswald von Riegan, had managed to avert political disaster by finding himself an heir after his son had passed away. Fortunately for him, because the duke was rumored to be ill. Edelgard had never met this new heir, but she had heard that he was a charming boy, if somewhat wild.

Then came a representative from the Church of Seiros, which Edelgard thought was odd. The Empire had not had a good relationship with the church in sometime.

On and on it went, for several hours the emperor met with dignitaries while Edelgard stood quietly at his side. The last supplicant was a mayor of a small town, close to the border of Faerghus, in a land known for its rocky, barren soil that produced a meager harvest. The town was having a harder time than usual producing food, especially with an increase of bandit attacks in the past few weeks. The people were not starving, but they were hungry and afraid. Her father ordered a shipment of grain and other provisions to be sent to the town, along with a small company of soldiers to ensure the peace. The mayor had just left, kissing the ground at her father’s feet, leaving them alone except for the soldiers in the room. Edelgard had just turned to her father to discuss what she had seen – when the doors to the throne room flung open.

Edelgard spun to face the threat, hand on her weapon – only to see Byleth striding through the doors, her father beside her, and another man Edelgard did not recognize. His hands were tied behind him, blood stained his downcast face, and he stumbled as Byleth half pushed and half held him as they walked toward the throne. 

“What is this, Jeralt?” Her father said. “Who is this man?”

“It appears that you have a spy in the palace, Your Majesty,” Jeralt replied. "Or an assassin. We found this on him.” Jeralt pulled out what looked like wickedly sharp blade and two small vials from a brown satchel. “We have not been able to confirm it yet, but one appears to be a sleeping potion. The other, poison.”

Edelgard stiffened, staring at the man they held. The soldiers in the room said not a word, not even a murmur, but she could see them standing straighter, their hands tightening on their weapons, as tension thickened the air in the room. 

“Where did you find him?” Edelgard asked.

Byleth met her gaze, her face serious and grim. “Outside the royal apartments, Your Highness. Close to your room, in particular.” A tiny gasp escaped Edelgard’s lips, unbidden, as fear coiled itself around her heart. Her hand gripped the handle of her axe. “We found something else. A map of the palace with certain rooms marked. Yours, Edelgard, and your father’s. But also the rooms of the heirs to Houses Aegir, Hevring, Varley, and Vestra, and that of the Brigid princess as well.”

Edelgard was stunned, thinking of her companions from this morning. All of them had been marked? All except Caspar?

Her father’s voice was grim. “I see. Good work Jeralt, Byleth. You have done your job well.” He motioned for his guards to apprehend the man. “Throw him into the dungeon and send whatever he has to the physician. Let us confirm if it is indeed poison that he carried. Send my spymaster also to learn whatever he can.” He turned once more to the two mercenaries. “My gratitude once more, Jeralt. I am glad that I hired you when I did, though I did not anticipate needing your skills so soon.”

“Father?” Edelgard asked as she looked at him. “I thought you hired them to take care of bandits?”

He looked at her with a slight smile. “Ostensibly, my child. That is what I want our enemies to think. But Jeralt has many skills and has provided security for royalty before. He tells me that it pays better than fighting bandits in a field. Based on the compensation he demanded, I’d say that it is. Compensation that was well-earned today.”

Jeralt inclined his head. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Though I have to say that it was Byleth who caught the intruder today.”

“You have my thanks, Byleth. But now we must plan how to deal with this threat. Jeralt, Byleth, meet me in the war room to discuss our next step. Edelgard,” he said, turning to her, “wait in your room with the guard doubled. Let no one in.”

“But Father –” Edelgard protested. She didn’t want to wait in her room like a child while the future was decided for her.

“Wait, child.” Her father said, his voice firm. “I will call you tonight when we have a plan. For now, just keep yourself safe. The other children will be told to do the same.”

Edelgard stared hard at her father before finally nodding and walking away. She knew when to push and when to do what she was told, even if she railed against it. She headed to her rooms, several guardsman shadowing her, as her mind churned with questions.

A spy or an assassin?

Who sent him?

And why were they all marked?

It would be several hours before Edelgard was summoned to meet with her father. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s notes: Well that developed in ways I didn’t expect. Mostly world building in this chapter and bringing in some of the Black Eagles. But Edelgard and Byleth will be interacting a lot more in the next one! Hope to see you there.


	4. Chapter 4

The sky was still gray and the air still cold, the sun having barely risen for the day. The sound of horse’s hooves the only sound Edelgard could hear, muffled as it was by the heavy cowl over her head. She wrapped her cloak more firmly around herself to ward off the early morning chill, her gaze fixed on the mercenary who rode just ahead, riding with her head uncovered as if the cold did not bother her at all. 

Byleth.

Why did none of this make sense?

When she had been summoned by her father, she knew that a plan would have been made and was eager to learn what they had discovered. Was this man a spy or assassin? Why was she targeted along with the others? She did not expect what the plan would be.

“You want me to ride out at dawn and pretend to be a soldier?” Edelgard asked her father, flabbergasted. “In the company of a mercenary we have only just met.”

“You approve of her skills, do you not?” her father replied. “In besting you and in catching this man, I think that she and Jeralt have proven their worth.” 

“No one is arguing their skills, Father,” Edelgard said, frustrated. “But we don’t know them. How can we trust them?” She threw her hands up. “And without knowing who this man is or if he has any accomplishes, how can we leave the palace safely?”

“That is exactly why you and the others must leave, daughter. Tomorrow at dawn, you and the others will accompany Byleth and her mercenaries to the village. You will be nothing more than the soldiers escorting a grain shipment. You’ll be safe for a time.”

Edelgard sighed, recognizing when her father had made a decision and would not change it. “It is nearly a week’s ride to Remire, Father.”

Will he be safe here? Edelgard thought. How could she be of any use in some far-off village?

His mouth quirked. “Almost two with grain wagons in tow.” Edelgard groaned. “It will be fine, daughter. That will give us time to catch the enemy, and Byleth will keep you and the others safe. Think of it as a chance to train. You _were_ looking forward to training with her, were you not?”

She had been looking forward to it, Edelgard had to admit. She had been looking forward to it for days. But the presence of an assassin or spy in the palace had changed everything. They were in the palace now and Edelgard was riding away from it with only her companions and a few mercenaries for company. Was she riding away from danger, or toward it? And while she found Byleth intriguing, how was she supposed to trust her? Why did her father trust her?

As if Byleth could sense her stare, she turned to look at Edelgard. She seemed annoyingly perky so early in the day, her blue hair falling in waves around her face and her blue eyes bright and attentive. She smiled, slowing her horse until she was next to Edelgard.

“Is there something on your mind, Edelgard?”

They had agreed not to use her title for the duration of their journey in order to hide her identity. That was something Edelgard would have to get used to.

“I still cannot understand why we are being sent away when there is work to be done at the palace,” Edelgard said, frustration in her voice. “Was this the best way?”

Byleth shrugged, checking their surroundings as she talked. The dirt road they followed was flat and easy enough to ride on, but thick forest lined each side of it making it difficult to see anyone coming until they were almost upon them. Edelgard was mindful to check their surroundings too as they talked. “It was the best idea at the time. What better way to keep you safe even when it appeared that you were hiding in your room. Tripling the guard at your door added to the ruse.”

“So I am to be bait. Without even being present?” Edelgard said stiffly.

Byleth grinned. “Exactly. Does that bother you?”

“Yes,” Edelgard said. “I am not some helpless maid to be protected. I want to fight.”

“And fight you will, in time. Tell me, Edelgard,” Byleth said, “have you ever been to battle?”

“No,” she said, frustration edging her tone, knowing she lacked experience and not liking it. “Father said I was not yet ready.”

“And you think you are?”

“I can fight!” Edelgard insisted. “You’ve seen me.”

“I have,” Byleth said. “And your father was right, you’re not ready.”

Edelgard was struck speechless, staring at Byleth. No one talked to her like this.

Byleth shook her head. “Not because you’re not skilled, you are. You have a lot of talent and you’ve clearly worked hard at your skills. But…everyone who’s ever trained you has been a servant of your father, right?”

“And?” Edelgard could not see what that had to do with it.

Byleth looked at her with that hint of amusement back in her eyes. “As long as they serve your father, they could never touch you. Would any of them have dared to do what I did in that throne room, even if they could?”

That made Edelgard stop. She had her share of bumps and bruises in the training ring, of course. One did not learn to fight without getting some injuries. But could it be true what Byleth said, that her father’s men had held back all these years because she was his daughter? A princess who had to be handled with care. She frowned, doubt creeping up on her. They couldn’t have been taking it easy on her all this time, could they?

Byleth seemed to read the thoughts behind her expression, because she shook her head again.

“You _are_ a fine fighter, Edelgard. Do not doubt that. All I am saying is that no matter how good a fight your men would give you, even if they did their best, they would never be able to do whatever it took to actually bring you down. Because they are loyal to you and your father.”

That mollified her. “Oh and you can do whatever it takes because you’re just a mercenary who is not loyal to my father or me?” Edelgard said, feeling some of her spirit return.

Byleth just grinned at her, blue eyes shining with laughter. “Exactly.” Edelgard rolled her eyes, but was strangely, inexplicably charmed by this woman who said things to her no one else ever did.

“Which begs the question,” Edelgard continued. “Why _does_ my father trust you so much? I’ve been trying to understand it since the day we met. I have never heard my father speak of you, until that day, and yet he specifically asked for you and Jeralt. Now I find that you have served not only as mercenaries, but as royal security, and you’re able to catch potential spies or assassins as well.” She met Byleth’s gaze squarely. “Who are you, Byleth? Really?”

The smile had faded from Byelth’s face when she looked at her, her expression serious now. “We are what we appear to be.” Edelgard scoffed. “Mostly. We are mercenaries, but with a varied set of skills. And good enough to choose our patron and our price.”

“It’s not usually like that for mercenaries,” Edelgard said.

“No. Normally the life of a mercenary is…much less certain, with far less control. A mercenary is paid a certain wage and often stuck on the front lines of battle, sometimes hired on the same day that a battle is to be fought. It is cold and hard and ultimately a short life for most mercenaries.”

“And what makes you different?” Edelgard asked.

“My father is very good,” Byleth said, her voice filled with pride. “And he taught me. We also have a good group with us. The core of our band have been together for several years and even the newer ones have proved themselves.”

Byleth nodded toward a tall man riding a few paces ahead of them, big and broad shouldered, with a head of curly blonde hair. “That’s Raphael, a merchant’s son. His parents died a few years ago and he joined up with us to support his family. He smiles a lot, and he eats a lot, but he can handle himself with an axe. Or even just his fists.”

She gestured to someone else, a slender woman with short, orange hair who had a bow strapped to her back and whose gaze swept the surroundings continuously as she rode. “That’s Leonie. She’s been shooting that bow since she could walk, or close to it, she says. She’s been with us for a few years. She wanted to join us when she too young and Father would not let her, but when she got older she left her village and found us. She was skilled with that bow, so Father let her join.”

“When she got older, hmm?” Edelgard looked at Leonie. The girl looked to be around her age. Byleth had to be older than her, but not much, yet she spoke as if she had been riding and fighting at her father’s side for many years. “You speak as if you are so old and experienced.”

Byleth chuckled, dropping her gaze before looking at Edelgard with a smile. “Not so old. Though I’m sure I am older than you.”

“I’m seventeen,” Edelgard said, somewhat defensively. She couldn’t say why, but she didn’t want Byleth to see her as a child. “Eighteen in a few months.”

“So old and experienced,” Byleth said, a twinkle in her eyes. “I am twenty. Twenty-one in a few months.”

“I see,” Edelgard said. So Byleth was not much older than her after all. She couldn’t say why that pleased her. She began to say something else, to ask Byleth more questions, when she heard a sniffle from somewhere behind her. Turning in her saddle, she saw Bernadetta hunched over as she rode, head downturned and looking like she was swallowed up by her hood and cloak. She looked miserable and even from here Edelgard could see the redness of her nose and the shaking of her shoulders. Edelgard sighed, excused herself from Byleth and slowed her horse until she was riding next to Bernadetta.

“Hey Bernadetta,” Edelgard said, trying to make her voice comforting.

Bernadetta looked up, her eyes wide and tears streaming down her cheeks. “Hi Edelgard.” She hiccuped.

“Are you all right?” Edelgard asked.

Bernadetta shook her head. “N-no! This is so scary. Why are we out here?”

Edelgard sighed, but tried not so show it. Bernadetta had always been fearful, preferring to spend her time inside and rarely coming out for training or joining them for meals. In the year since Bernadetta’s father had sent her live in the palace, Edelgard had had few chances to get to know her.

But here they were, thrown together for reasons she didn’t understand. Edelgard couldn’t help but feel something like pity, or maybe responsibility, for this girl who knew even less than she did and seemed much less able to cope.

“It’s to keep us safe,” Edelgard said. Bernadetta only sniffled some more, so she tried something else. “Tell me, Bernadetta, do know how to use that bow?” A bow was strapped to Bernadetta’s saddle along with a quiver full of arrows. Bernadetta looked at it with eyes wide as if she had never seen it before.

“No…I mean…sort of?” She looked slightly panicked. “I’m not very good! You’re—you’re not sending me out to fight are you?”

Edelgard took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “No, of course not. I just wanted to know if you could shoot. You must, if you have a bow with you.”

“Oh,” Bernadetta took a deep breath herself. “I can shoot. I really am not that good though. I’m still just learning.”

She jumped when Petra rode up next to her. “If it is learning you are wanting, I can teach you,” Petra said. “It would bring me happiness to have a partner with training.” 

“Thank you, Petra.” Edelgard said. She was grateful for Petra’s offer since she was not skilled with a bow herself. She had always preferred an axe or a sword. Petra on the other hand, was a fine marksman. Edelgard had seen her practice and honestly couldn’t decide what she was better at, sword or bow.

Petra and Bernadetta started talking about archery and hunting, and except for one moment when Bernadetta looked like she would run screaming in terror when Petra remarked – jokingly - that she reminded her of prey, it seemed as if they were getting along. The two of them stopped for a moment while Petra drew her bow to demonstrate something for Bernadetta, and Hubert rode up to join Edelgard.

“That was skillful of you,” Hubert said. “I thought our enemy would hear us coming, not from the wagon rumbling behind us, but by the sound of her crying.”

“Hubert,” Edelgard said, casting him a chastising look.

He looked unmoved. “I am only sharing my observations, Lady Edelgard.”

Edelgard winced. “Hubert,” she said again. She wasn’t sure how effective it would be merely leaving off her title but still saying her name, but she wanted to try.

Hubert grimaced. “Forgive me…” he trailed off, clearly uncomfortable saying her name without her title. Edelgard felt a wash of affection as she looked at him. He was her dearest and oldest friend, but he had always treated her with respect and deference due to her station. Ever since they were young and his father, Marquis Vestra, told him that it was his responsibility to take her of her, Hubert had taken that charge to heart. Edelgard had distinct memories of Hubert, just a boy, standing by her bedside and refusing to leave it when she became ill. There was another memory of Hubert becoming injured when he got between her and an injured boar during a hunt. For these moments and for so many others over the years, she trusted Hubert completely.

“Just do your best,” Edelgard said.

“My thanks,” Hubert said, clearly trying to avoid saying her name without a title by avoiding calling her anything at all. Edelgard was smiling at him when he said, “So I noticed you talking to the mysterious mercenary. Did you find anything interesting?”

Oh, Hubert had been paying attention to that? 

“Just a few things,” Edelgard said, her eyes going to the mercenary in question. Byleth was riding next to her mercenaries now, the ones named Raphael and Leonie, and she was smiling as she talked to them. “The members of her mercenary band are close knit, with a good reputation and more freedom than most. Commoners, it seems, with merchant’s sons and village bowmen.”

“I see.” Hubert sent her a knowing look. “Did you find out anything about their leader? Or his daughter, perhaps.”

Edelgard flushed, but pointedly ignored. “They seem capable.”

“And you don’t find her even just a little distracting?”

That damnable blush burned just a little brighter, but Edelgard tried one last time to pretend she didn’t know what Hubert was talking about it. “She is interesting, that is all.”

Hubert just leveled her a gaze and held it, the kind that said he was not fooled nor amused. She sighed. “She is…different, Hubert, it’s hard to explain. I found her infuriating when we met, but after she beat me, I was impressed.” She drifted off for a moment, trying to explain. “I still don’t understand how my father could trust her and her father so easily. And I don’t understand her. She’s unlike any mercenary I’ve ever met. She doesn’t speak to me the way other people do.”

“Without the proper deference or respect, you mean,” Hubert grumbled.

Edelgard chuckled. “Maybe it’s that. I wouldn’t say it’s disrespectful, just not…deferential. I’m not used to that.”

It’s true. All the people in Edelgard’s life fit into one of two categories. They were her peers, members of the nobility who are not as high in the ranks as royalty but close enough. These people were her friends, her companions, her teachers. The other people in her world were commoners, those who served in the palace or served in the field as soldiers. She respected them for their service, tried to accompany her father when he inspected the troops or toured the country side, and some of her best training partners were from the army. But those who came from common families never seemed to look her in the eye, not for long, and they were not as forthcoming with the details of their lives. Granted, Edelgard had never tried very hard to know those details, but she suspected the invisible barrier that had always existed between her and commoners would always be there no matter how hard she tried to push against it. 

Except maybe for Dorothea, Edelgard realized. The singer from the Mittelfrank Opera Company was not a friend, exactly, but the few occasions they had spent time together, Edelgard had enjoyed her company. The first time they’d met was when Edelgard had requested an audience after watching her sing. Dorothea was beautiful, classically so, and when she sang, she could render you breathless. But what really stood out to Edelgard that day, was that when they were introduced, Dorothea bowed as was proper but then met her gaze steadily after. There was respect, but not the subservience Edelgard was used to receiving due to her station. Dorothea was smart and attentive, answering Edelgard’s questions thoughtfully and responding with questions of her own. There were no requests or insinuations for donations to the opera, which was also refreshing. When their conversation ended Edelgard asked if they could meet again, perhaps for tea, and Dorothea had agreed. The tea they shared together a few days later went on for so long it bled into lunch, and when they said goodbye, it was Dorothea who asked if they could see each other again.

They had not known each other for very long, but perhaps Edelgard could consider her a friend. She certainly thought fondly of her and enjoyed her company.

Would Byleth be the same way, Edelgard wondered.

Would it be different since Byleth was in her father’s employ, a mercenary who was loyal to them for the duration of a contract only, and who would leave once it was over.

As if thinking along those lines, Hubert spoke. “Do not forget what she is, Your Highness,” he said, his voice low. “Learn from her, but do not trust her.”

Edelgard sighed, looked at Byleth who was laughing at something her companion had said. There was something fetching about the way that she tossed her head back when she laughed. Even with everything that had happened, with an unnamed enemy tracking them perhaps even now, the woman was able to laugh. She knew that what Hubert said was true, but still, there was something about Byleth that made Edelgard want to know more about her. Something that made her want to trust her.

“I know, Hubert,” she said. “I know.”

They rode on for the rest of the day, their slow pace dictated by the grain wagons that plodded along in the rear. Edelgard spent time with all of her companions, nudging Linhardt when he appeared to be sleeping in his saddle and brushing off Ferdinand’s offer to protect her from any “nefarious attacker.” They had all responded relatively well to the news that sent them on this journey, except for Bernadetta, and even she looked at least a little more comfortable while talking to Petra. The girl was motivated by food, it seemed, and Edelgard took note of that for later. Caspar seemed to get along with Raphael who shared his love of training.

It was a rather uneventful day, all things considered, though Edelgard noted how Byleth tried to avoid the main roads and avoided the towns they could have encountered along the way. There was still an hour or two of daylight when Byleth signaled for them to stop and make camp. They were by a river in a small clearing surrounded by trees. Edelgard winced as she dismounted, sore and tired from riding all day.

Hubert harrumphed when he looked at their surroundings. “So we’re sleeping outside tonight, are we?” But he dismounted and began unpacking without further complaint.

They were supposed to be soldiers, so each of them had a tent and a small sleeping roll. It wasn’t much, certainly not how Edelgard was used to traveling, but she did not complain. She set up her tent and opened up her sleeping roll, looking at it longingly before joining the others outside. The mercenaries had built a fire and were preparing dinner. But Edelgard found it curious that all of her companions were sitting together, weapons by their side except for Hubert and Linhardt.

“What are you doing?” Edelgard asked.

“Byleth told us to get our weapons and wait for her,” Hubert said with a scowl.

Curious, Edelgard got her axe and sword and waited with the others. “Are we going to be first watch or something?” Caspar said to no one in particular. Edelgard shrugged.

When Byleth arrived, sword at her hip, she got straight to the point. The smiling, laughing woman from this morning was replaced by a stern, no-nonsense commander.

“Now seems like a good time to see what all of you can do. You are supposed to be soldiers, so I assume that all of you have received training, but I need to know how well you can actually fight.

“You are saying this is a test?” Hubert said, his low voice filled with disdain. “With live steel?”

Byleth shrugged. “That’s all we have. I trust that you all have enough control not to actually hit each other.”

“Oh no…” Bernadetta said, clutching her bow and eyes wide with fright.

Byleth looked at her and her stern expression gave way to a slight, but comforting smile. “I’m not asking you to shoot at anyone. Bernadetta, right? I’m setting up targets for the archers and for the mages. Everyone with a melee weapon will spar with me.”

“What is the point of this exercise?” Hubert said coldly, staring at Byleth.

Byleth met his gaze, answering his challenge with cool, unwavering steadiness. “The point is that you are supposed to be soldiers under my command. I need to know what you can do, and I need to know that you can follow orders.” Her eyes narrowed. “Is that enough for you, Hubert?”

He glared at her, but after a moment, he nodded stiffly. 

“All right then,” Byleth said. She drew her sword, the steel making a soft _swish_ as it was pulled from the leather scabbard. “Who wants to go first?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: There was a lot of talking this chapter wasn’t there? Almost 4,000 words, and most of it dialogue. But I hope you liked it. I always enjoy seeing Edelgard and Byleth interacting with each other and with the other Eagles, and learning more about who Edelgard is in this timeline.  
> Next time Byleth gets to see what all the members of the Black Eagles (except Dorothea) can do. Hope to see you there! And thank you to everyone who has left comments and kudos and subscribed. It means a lot to know people are reading this. =]


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